


Poker Face

by DarrenButt



Category: Glee
Genre: -Ish, Exhibitionism, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6052186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarrenButt/pseuds/DarrenButt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights you end up receiving a blowjob from your fiancé under the table while your closest friends fail to pretend they aren't looking. Or maybe that's just Kurt Hummel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poker Face

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is literally just porn. Have fun.

It was really their fault in the end that any of it happened for a number of reasons.

The first was that they were the ones to arrange the party: an All Girls-And-Gays Grown Up Slumber Party at the loft. They knew Tina was going to be in the City, and frankly the nostalgia of the Glee Club slumber parties sans straight men they used to partake in had hit them hard. The parties used to get pretty out-of-hand, typically held at Rachel’s house because they were pros at handling noise complaint.

The second was that they had also knowingly invited Santana. It wasn’t that they hadn’t given the Unholy Trinity invitations back in high school, they did, but rather that Santana, Brittany, and Quinn used to be quite adamant about the fact that they were of a higher stature than the rest of them. Quinn only came once back in Kurt’s sophomore year before Blaine was in the picture back when her belly was swollen with Beth, and Brittany once by accident. But Santana had never come to one, and Kurt should have known that just because they live with her (sort of? Things got complicated) didn’t mean she’d tone herself down at all.

The last reason was, well… it wasn’t _all_ their fault for the raunchy atmosphere the party had taken, but the fact that both he and Blaine were horny drunks definitely set the picture for the rest of everyone. At the least, it gave Reason Number Two a minimal-raunchiness-level to consistently top.

The group, consisting of Kurt and Blaine, Rachel, Tina, Mercedes, and Santana, were working their way through a couple of bottles of tequila (which should be counted as Reason Number Four) by playing some self-invented drinking games.

Currently, the game was a mixture of Blackjack and Truth or Dare, in which you don’t want to get 21 at first deal else you suffer through ‘S the D’ (“Santana-ing-the-Dare,” Santana herself proclaimed). Santana insisted that it was the ultimate dare, in which everything is put into jeopardy.

Mercedes was the first victim to S the D.

As mentioned, the night was already vulgar. Rachel and Tina had spent the first ten minutes or so discussing the pros and cons to small boobs, which sparked Mercedes to rant about her large bust-ed problems, which then sparked the lesbian into conversation on all of the boobs she’s fondled and which sizes she likes better. An hour of boob talk and half a bottle of Tequila later, suddenly everyone was touching everyone else’s boobs, trying to coax the gay men into picking favorites.

Which then somehow led to topless Spin the Bottle and sex talk. Eventually, Spin the Bottle morphed into Truth or Dare and Kurt and Blaine explaining to the ladies the untold, quiet glory of the male perineum. Truth or Dare needed more rules and drinking, and thus Blackjack was added to it.

Already, ice has been down Kurt’s pants, Rachel was wearing a very short skirt with no panties, Santana taught Tina how to find her g-spot (a continuation of the prostate talk), and Blaine was stuck on only referring to Kurt as ‘Daddy’ for the rest of the night. It was a mystery to all of them how Santana was going to top what they’ve already done. But, as always, she did not fail to deliver.

Which was how Mercedes ended up licking a clean, fat swipe over Tina’s clitoris in front of everyone.

Nearly everyone was tipsy, but it seemed like everyone was more drunk off of the atmosphere than the tequila. Loud, ruckus giggles and screams erupted as Mercedes dipped her head, Tina completely flushed and partaking in the festivity with everyone else. Tina kissed her cheek when she surfaced, and the game moved on.

Kurt has had his hand on Blaine’s thigh for the majority of the night. The brief dance party the group had in between boob-talk and Spin the Bottle consisted of Blaine’s ass shamelessly grinding over Kurt’s dick, in no way concealing the fact that the alcohol had successfully entered his system. Kurt was left horny and unsatisfied, and, judging by all of the talk of the female anatomy, Blaine has been past the point of wanting to fuck himself on Kurt’s cock to rid his mind of heterosexuality for hours now. Also, tequila.

Sober, Kurt and Blaine were masters of stealthily sneaking dirty touches and kisses. When they were drunk, it still felt like they were being sneaky, but evidently not by the way each girl has been winking at them.

A few rounds had passed since the first S’ed D, and Kurt was enjoying teasing Blaine on the inseam of his sinfully gorgeous dark washed jeans, when he was dealt a jack and an ace.

Fear struck through him at once before he could think otherwise to control it. But Santana was already smirking.

“Ooh, I have been _waiting_ for this, Kurt Elizabeth,” Santana purred, gaining everyone else’s attention.

Luckily, the rules stated that they had to go through the round before Kurt was handed his dare. Rachel busted, so she downed a shot, Mercedes got the lowest points so she had a regular dare, and Blaine had the second lowest so he had a truth. Once Mercedes flashed the city (no one outside was looking, but it was still New York), Santana’s evil eyes landed on Blaine.

“I’ve got Blainers’s truth,” she slurred, still reasonably in control of herself otherwise.

“You’re gave the last three truths, Tana!” Tina protested, giggling. “Leave the rest of us to it!”

“Oh, no, you see, I’ve got something really specific in mind here,” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest, which was only clad in her lacy black bra. Eyeing Blaine down evilly, she addressed him, “I wanna know what your stance on exhibitionism is. Specifically, how much it turns you on.”

Blaine took a moment in which his eyes glossed over funnily. “I approve of it,” he said eventually, licking his lips and sitting up straight in a way that fooled no one to the fact that he was really readjusting his half-hard erection. “I mean, Kur- _Daddy-_ ” the girls giggled at the name, “and I have never acted much on it, but sometimes we pretend we’re being risky. I kind of really like it.”

Santana’s expression went wicked while the other girls hooted. “Well, Blainers, today’s your lucky day.” Eyes going wide, Kurt saw where Santana was going a split second before she flashed her expression to Kurt. “Kurt, I dare you to have Blaine suck you off under the table while you and the rest of us continue playing.”

The girls were squealing again while Kurt felt his ears grow hot. He immediately turned to consult Blaine, whose glossed eyes were staring back at him now looking as if actually made of glass. Seeing Blaine’s blown pupils, Kurt joined the girls with the giggling, much more out of nerves than anything.

“Wait- you can like, totally veto that,” Rachel insisted, though she was still grinning madly. “Because if you’re seriously not comfortable with it-”

“Hush, Berry, don’t talk him out of it!” Santana shushed her. “It’s not like all of us haven’t heard his orgasm shrieks before. Hell, we practically saw them fuck when they were dancing earlier, anyway.”

Still containing her laughter, Mercedes interjected, “Okay well, final decision is up to them.”

“Please tell me final decision is yes, though,” Tina breathed out, making all of the other girls dissolve into laughter again.

Biting his lip to contain his grin, Kurt turned back to Blaine, both of them judging each other’s faces. It was plainly evident both on Blaine’s face and in his lap, which was clearly visible to Kurt, what his opinion on the matter was. “I mean,” Blaine croaked, swallowing hard and giving Kurt a once over, “I’m okay with it.”

The girls were relentless on the ears, clapping and celebrating Blaine’s decision. Blaine, however, held onto Kurt’s gaze. To be honest, there wasn’t a portion of Kurt’s mind that wasn’t begging for himself to cave. But his body was shaking with nerves.

Carefully, Blaine leaned forward until his lips were to Kurt’s ear, expertly turning Kurt’s head so that the girls couldn’t read his lips. “I don’t think you’ll last much longer without my mouth on you, anyway.”

The shiver ran all of the way down Kurt’s spine. Blaine had to have known that Kurt was already sold, but for good measure he drifted his palm into Kurt’s lap, cupping him through his pants with the lightest amount of pressure he could manage.

“Is this okay?” He asked as Kurt flinched, his voice loud enough that the girls could hear it.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Kurt turned to his audience with a stern finger pointing at them. “ _Rules_ ,” he started.

Only to be lost in the uproar of the girls downing a celebratory shot, vocalizing their amusement and anticipation obnoxiously. It was a good thing they cut him off, because Blaine’s version of celebration had been squeezing the hand over his dick, and Kurt lost his breath for a moment.

“ _Rules rules rules_!” Kurt called their attention urgently, Blaine pressing himself so close into his side it was hard to determine where one of them ended and the other began. The hand on his crotch was rubbing now, so Kurt did his best to keep his voice steady. “There is absolutely no peaking under or around the table. We continue the game without Blaine and don’t just blatantly watch me.”

“It’s until you come, right?” Tina asked, a glint in her eyes.

“Well, we’re not stopping before that,” Kurt breathed out, his face now positively strawberry pink. Blaine was getting grabby and breathing hotly down his neck. “Your rules?” he asked, cocking his jaw toward Blaine to address him and totally _not_ to present that column of his throat to Blaine’s wandering lips.

“You open your legs for me now?” He said as he nuzzled Kurt’s face, completely lust-blown. Kurt shuttered again, giggling breathlessly along with the girls, who were hooting.

Fingernails digging into Blaine’s exposed arm, Kurt bit down hard on his bottom lip in preparation before nodding, giving Blaine permission to fall to his knees. Hands were already on his hips, holding him steady. Self conscious, Kurt flailed for a moment, “Ha- Okay, wait- I- _No blatant staring_!”

One eyebrow popped, Santana smirked, “He hasn’t even got his mouth on you yet.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re completely killing my boner though, so stop it,” It was kind of a lie; he was certain his boner wouldn’t soften even if his dad walked straight through the door. Blaine’s hand petted heavily over it, making Kurt yelp. “Can we please continue the game now?”

“Anything for you, babe,” Santana purred teasingly, collecting the dealt cards back into the deck. Kurt had to roll his eyes at her, as his face felt too hot to bite back with a retort.

As the cards were being shuffled, Kurt did his best to ignore the side-eyeing of every other person in the room. He had the desperate need to rock his hips upward into the pressure, but he wasn’t about to do that when Rachel was being the least subtle person on the planet and tarnishing her credit as an actress. The steady friction on his dick over his pants was tantalizing, but easy to ignore with enough thoughts of dead baby animals.

By the time the next round of cards were dealt out, Kurt was convinced he’d be able to walk out of this situation without a shred of embarrassment. He could _totally_ be quiet. He was a performer, and he knew how to school his facial expression when he needed to. Peeking at his hidden card, Kurt straightened himself in his seat.

“Hit,” he said boldly.

Santana grinned wildly when he turned over his busted hand, letting the bottle of tequila scrape over to him against the wooden table. He took his shot resentfully, realizing that if he had any chance of remaining in control, he’d have to be as sober as he possibly could. Smirking even wider at the glare he sent her, Santana taunted, “You okay, Tomato Face?”

Just as he was about to reply, the button on his jeans was popped open. It only set him back a moment. “Peachy. For your truth I want you to tell us the name of that stuffed rabbit you still sleep with every night.”

She barely hid her gasp; he had been waiting a while to drop that inkling of information on her for a while. Teeth clenching, she gritted, “Cashmere. And I do _not_ sleep with her every night.”

“Wow, I am so less intimidated by you now,” Mercedes joked at Kurt’s aide.

“Oh, eat shit,” Santana defended, glaring back at Kurt. “And at least she’s a lot less creepy than Bruce.”

“Bruce is-” Kurt started, his train of thought disappearing instantaneously.

Blaine’s thumb and forefinger were pinching the tip of his cock through his cotton briefs, knowingly squeezing at the sensitive slit. A half of a second later and the pressure was gone, Blaine opting to trail his fingers down the shaft instead. Biting his tongue, Kurt stuttered to remember the previous conversation. He must have inhaled loudly, because the girls were staring at him again.

The heat in his face now traveling down his neck and onto his shoulders, Kurt reached across the table and snatched the deck. “Cards,” Kurt demanded the game continue.

Trying to keep his grace dealing out the cards was obnoxiously difficult, something that he’d have to struggle saying it was simply the alcohol. But Blaine had yet to grab him fully and give him any sort of actual satisfaction. It took every bit of control Kurt had to not curse down at him; Blaine knew Kurt never had the patience for teasing when it came to receiving a blowjob, and seeing Kurt squirm that way was always Blaine’s favorite part.

Focusing his attention back on the game, Kurt stood at 17, unable to risk having to down another shot. But Blaine’s fingers continued to do nothing but ghost over him for the entire round, making Kurt grind his teeth and accept his fate giving a truth.

Tina rested her chin on her hand, asking as politely as if saying ‘please’, “What’s Blaine doing right now?”

Frustration ripped the answer out of him, “He’s not fucking doing _anything_ , god _dammit_ , Blaine-”

Just as he said it, Blaine pulled Kurt’s underwear back enough to free his dick, playfully letting the fabric pull at it until it bounced out. Now out in the open air, Kurt had no pressure against himself to relieve any sort of tension. He hid his face behind his hand, trying to collect himself. Mercifully, the girls feigned interest in continuing the game, letting Kurt have a breather.

Mercedes took the deck next, now wearing Rachel’s used panties on her head. But Blaine had finally managed to put contact against Kurt’s naked erection, and there wasn’t nearly enough stimulation as he needed. He had a loose hold, just barely his fingertips grasping him, swaying Kurt’s dick back and forth and simply tapping it against his belly.

Kurt was enraged. How the hell did Blaine have this kind of self control? He certainly never had the audacity to tease Kurt this much when they were by themselves-

Kurt’s entire body jolted at the warm tongue that pressed against the underside of his dick. His hand flew down underneath the table and into Blaine’s curls, trying his best to _keep him there, dammit_. But despite his hold, Blaine only continued to kitten-lick down the thick vein.

“-Kurt?” Mercedes called to him, smiling knowingly. “Hitting or Standing?”

“U-Um,” Kurt swallowed thickly, trying to keep his mind on track. He hadn’t even looked at his cards yet. “H-Hit.”

His body filled with relief when he scored 20 points, secure with the idea that he’d get to sit the round out safely and pretend to be interested in Tina’s dare. Blaine’s tongue was being downright sinful, lapping over him from base to tip, giving him staccato presses of warmth instead of encompassing him with heat. His anger at Blaine boiled over; he silently reached down and grabbed himself while the girls gabbed on around him.

He managed to give himself one glorious stroke before Blaine pried his hand off and held it away, giving the head of Kurt’s dick one measly peck of his lips. Unable to stop himself from fighting back, Kurt then made use of his left hand- but he didn’t even get to grasp himself before Blaine had restricted that hand, too. He blew his hot breath around the head of Kurt’s cock, and Kurt had no choice but to partake in combat.

Biting his bottom lip, Kurt struggled to dig his hands back in Blaine’s curls and push the open mouth onto him. But Blaine’s hands were strong, and he didn’t have to worry about being discreet. Just as Kurt thought he would have to give up, Blaine’s mouth suckled the entire head of Kurt’s cock into its heat.

Kurt’s body betrayed him; he moaned, only managing to conceal half of it by the hand that Blaine had suddenly freed.

All eyes were on him at once, the banter around the room silent. Kurt cursed inward toward himself and outward toward the asshole around his dick. He couldn’t bear looking around at all of the smirks on him, and was forced to physically hide his eyes behind his palm. The other hand sharply tugged on one of Blaine’s loose curls as a sort of threat.

It took a while before Kurt trusted his vocal chords to produce something that wasn’t a moan so that he could repeat venomously, “ _No blatant staring_!”

Ignoring him, Santana quipped, “You say that like you didn’t just screech to the bats on Coney Island.”

If Kurt had a retort, it drowned in oblivion as soon as Blaine started swirling his tongue.

The game continued, Kurt assumed, because there were cards in front of him, a two and a seven. When he figured it was his turn, he requested hit. “ _Fuck_ ,” he swore, the need for it probably residing more in the fact that Blaine had started a torturously slow bob than the fact that he was dealt a four. He contemplated his hand for a moment, weighing the odds. He could not let himself have another shot. “S-Stay.”

For a moment, he let himself focus on the hot softness of Blaine’s mouth while the game moved toward Rachel. Wet and smooth and sucking at the perfect moments, a product of the years of practice learning and knowing each other’s bodies. Blaine knew how to tease Kurt in the correct ways, to test his patience without fully igniting total frustration. Kurt angled his hips forward, watching Blaine sink down again and again over his length.

“-urt?” Kurt snapped his head toward Rachel, who wasn’t even trying to hide her grin. “Truth. Can Blaine deep throat?”

_God, this fucking game_ , Kurt thought to himself. “Y-Yes,” he admitted. No sooner had the word left his mouth did Blaine demonstrate the talent earned through those years of practice. Kurt’s audible gasp was enough of a hint for the girls around the circle.

“Did he just deep throat you?” Mercedes asked slyly.

“ _You only get one_ ,” Kurt slewed bitterly.

Tina retorted, “I dare you to stop holding back your moans.”

“I already gave my truth-”

“Actually, buttercup, you’re supposed to do a dare,” Santana pointed out viciously. “You had thirteen. That’s the lowest score. You answered Berry’s question of your own free will.” Kurt gaped, outraged. To his horror, she only smiled, “Maybe you should try to pay attention more.”

Blaine swallowed around him loudly, making Kurt stutter. “ _I fucking hate you all_ ,” he mumbled, swallowing thickly.

Giving an innocent shrug, Santana popped an eyebrow. “Well, you have your dare now, and don’t you even try to pretend like you aren’t noisy. I want the Mariah Carey performance you gave last Thursday when you guys forgot that I had gotten out of work early.”

“You sure are enthusiastic about this considering you’re a lesbian,” Kurt spewed snidely.

“It’s easy to pretend like you’re a lady, Hummel.”

Gritting his teeth, Kurt clenched his hand in Blaine’s hair. “ _No holding back_ ,” Rachel singsonged, and Kurt sent her the most venomous glare he could muster. The entire room was staring at him, waiting for his inhibition to give in. Nervously, Kurt made the mistake of looking down in his lap.

Wide, blown out irises were studying him with an almost innocent sort of encouragement, the accompanying pink lips stretched wide around Kurt’s width. Kurt’s breath left him at the sight, and he could feel his entire body twitch from the rush it gave him. Unable to control it, a soft, breathy moan rumbled out of his chest; his head tipped backwards with it. He finished the sound off with a giggle, the tension that had been inside him from holding back releasing. But he wasn’t going to let himself release fully with all of the eyes on him. Tugging gently at Blaine’s curls, Kurt spoke to the ceiling, “We can continue with the game, now.”

He caught everyone’s blushing faces just before they shied away down to themselves, waiting as Santana dealt out another round. He waited for the precise moment when they were all buried in their cards to grip hard on Blaine’s head, holding it steady, so that he could roll his hips upwards into Blaine’s waiting mouth. He knew how much Blaine got off on that- on letting Kurt just use him- and sure enough he was rewarded with the vibrations of Blaine’s long, luxurious moan around his cock.

Face toward the ceiling again, Kurt grunted loudly, “ _Shit_.” He shouldn’t have done that. There was no way he was going to restrain himself from doing that again, and there was no way that Blaine wouldn’t want him to continue. Sure enough, Blaine had frozen in his movements, his lips complacently encompassing only the head of Kurt’s dick, suckling lightly. He could hear himself making noises- high pitched breathy grunts- but was in no condition to control it.

“Kurt,” he distantly heard Santana call, pulling him from his concentration.

“Yeah?” he barely managed.

“Hit or stay?”

Laughing almost hysterically, Kurt leaned forward slightly. “Hit,” he said. Santana dealt him a card. “Hit,” he repeated, waited for another card, then repeated again. “Hit.”

“You’re at like, thirty showing now,” Tina noted.

“Thank god,” he praised, grabbing tequila and throwing back perhaps more than the required shot from straight out of the bottle. Slamming the bottle back down on the table, Kurt leaned back, digging his fingers back into Blaine’s hair and thrusting upward with abandon.

Chest burning, head droning, and dick _throbbing_ , Kurt wrenched his eyes shut and rocked himself into Blaine’s wanton mouth. The glide was wet and smooth and hot, and Kurt could now control it, desperate for some power after the torturous display Blaine had put him through. Willingly, greedily, Blaine sucked him down, encouraging him to push deeper and rougher like he always does. Wary of hurting him, Kurt obliged carefully- though he could feel his restraint breaking away.

They had practiced this. They have almost mastered a pretty decent deep-throat fucking. Kurt’s blood raced at the thought, at perfecting their skill to acquire a roughness akin to how they can get with anal, when that’s the mood of the night. Hi gag reflex wasn’t as good as Blaine’s, but he enjoys a rougher experience than Blaine does when he receives. They’ve always matched each other perfectly in nearly everything Kurt could think of sexually. They’ve always had the ability to know what the other wanted, and Kurt-

Well, Kurt really, really wanted to come in his fiancé’s mouth.

Ignoring where the girls _must_ have been watching in awe, Kurt looked down to where Blaine’s long eyelashes tickled over his cheekbones. He was completely at bliss, despite the way Kurt was shoving himself recklessly into his mouth over and over- or, perhaps, because of. He kept moaning his pleasure around Kurt every chance he could get, sending waves of vibration practically all the way down to Kurt’s toes.

He thought about the girls watching and a giant bubble inflated his chest. He figured he might have been embarrassed, but he didn’t think he was anymore. Let them watch. Let them see how his and Blaine’s sex life was anything but vanilla, like they always used to joke; let them see how Kurt Hummel made it, no longer the awkward victim but a sexy, dominating man with a ring on his finger.

Blaine’s eyes fluttered open, glancing upward hazily until they finally caught Kurt’s gaze. They turned mischievous upon realizing that Kurt had been watching him for quite some time. Kurt could feel the lips around him tugging into a smirk. Kurt gave him two slow thrusts: a retort to Blaine’s quip, spoken in their own silent language.

Kurt’s abdominal muscles were quivering now, his noises all raspy and airy. Blaine sucked him hard, swiping his tongue over Kurt’s underside in that specific way that he does that always had Kurt speeding up. Shallow and hard, Kurt’s thrusts started to become sloppy, but it was too much for Kurt to control anymore. Blaine’s mouth, hot and slick, was unforgivably perfect. Kurt could feel his orgasm in the pit of his stomach several long moments before it struck.

His body gave one great shudder, trembling with pleasure as he spilled into his fiancé’s mouth. It was the kind of toe-curling, back-arching finish that had him stilling as the waves passed through, then twitching as they ebbed out.

Boneless, Kurt caught his breath as he lay back against the chair again, one arm thrown over his eyes in attempt to recuperate. As per usual when Kurt come down Blaine’s throat before Blaine has had a chance to come, Blaine was still suckling at the head of Kurt’s cock; small little kisses and licks that he tried to excuse as ‘cleaning’. One particular suck had Kurt flinching from the oversensitivity, and Kurt batted him away with an urgent, “ _Blaine_.”

“Holy shit.”

Kurt jumped at Santana’s announcement, having forgotten in the aftershocks that he had an audience. Immediately, Kurt slapped a hand over his face. “Oh my god,” he said, but he was holding himself back from laughing.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Tina admitted, probably too seriously.

“Did y’all ever consider doing porn,” Mercedes added, _way_ too seriously.

Running his hand through his hair, though still hiding his face, Kurt mumbled through his smile, “So much for ‘no blatant staring’.”

“Sorry, boo, that was something different,” Mercedes said without a hint of actual apology in her tone. “I think _I_ need a cigarette right now.”

He giggled again, but then suddenly gasped; Blaine hadn’t stopped mouthing him at the only small expanse of skin available, above the base of Kurt’s dick, and his restlessness was showing. He had inched his way back to Kurt’s cock, finally managing to mouth the base of it again. “ _Oh my god_ ,” he snarked wickedly, grasping at the back of Blaine head and pulling him upward from underneath the table, “get up here.”

Blaine slinked his way up Kurt’s body until he was straddling him, up on his knees so that he was for once the one who was tilting Kurt’s head backwards from their height difference. A thrill ran through Kurt from the way his fiancé kissed him; it was still needy and desperate, having not come yet. Practically whining into Kurt’s mouth, Blaine was trying to use his tongue (rather sloppily) to convince Kurt. There was also the shameless grinding of his prominent crotch into Kurt’s chest that had him giggling, post orgasm, rather than heating back up again.

Santana spoke in an almost bored drawl, “Okay, it’s gross now,” only to be shushed venomously by the other three ladies.

Just to spite her, Kurt made a show of grabbing two thick handfuls of Blaine’s ass; he heard retching noises in response.

When Blaine became very obviously about to whip himself out and beat himself off shamelessly, Kurt strategically slipped himself back into his briefs, but didn’t bother with his fly. Gaining the use of his muscles back, he stood up, using the hands on Blaine’s ass as leverage to bring his fiancé with him. Like a giant koala bear, Blaine instinctually wrapped his legs around Kurt’s middle. After all, it wasn’t the first time Kurt’s had to maneuver Blaine to the bedroom like this.

“Wait, no, where are you going?!” Tina cried out as Rachel gave a long, woeful, “ _Kuurrt_!”

Cheekily, Kurt called back as he reached his curtained-off room. “Have a good night, guys!”

He might have been okay with showing himself off, but he didn’t feel up to sharing Blaine like that just quite yet.

_o-O-o_


End file.
